When Xander opened his eyes, all he could see was a pale haze. He blinked for a moment, and then his brain kicked into panicked overdrive. Murkiness, paleness, no discernible shapes or locations . . . what if he was going blind? It was probably an effect of mystical pregnancy . . . What if he was going to start losing all of his senses, and walk around in a weird blind pregnant daze?
Then he realized that he was, in fact, nosed right against Spike's paler than pale chest, and so he relaxed slightly.
"Awake, are you?" Spike's voice rumbled.
"What gave me away?" Xander asked with a yawn. He turned over onto his back, only getting halfway there before Spike was guiding him the rest of the way. "I can handle this part," Xander said, but he allowed Spike to ease him down.
"How do you feel?" Spike asked. He ran a hand up Xander's side, down his torso, and over his belly. "Don't seem feverish anymore."
"I feel okay, I guess," Xander answered. "That helps, I'm thinking," he added, since Spike seemed in danger of halting the glancing touch. Without a word Spike kept stroking over, up, down, around. Xander sighed and wriggled into a more comfortable position.
After a short while, the calming gesture became more heated, and Xander's breaths starting coming a little faster. "Still feel good?" Spike asked in a low voice.
"Yeah," Xander whispered back. When Spike drew up next to him and slid his palm to cup Xander's cheek, Xander's hands pulled him closer, and their lips met slowly, softly.
"I don't know if we should do this," Xander got out between kisses as he made a half-hearted attempt to pull away.
"Not like we haven't done it before," Spike muttered, pulling Xander back towards him.
"Well, yeah, and look what happened that time," Xander said indignantly. He gave Spike a little push and moved over, putting a protective hand on his stomach. "Whatever's . . . in here . . . we don't want it to double or triple up, do we?"
At this a faint look resembling something like hopefulness flitted across Spike's face, and Xander groaned. "Please do not tell me you think that's a swell idea."
"Probably nothing would happen," Spike scoffed. He pressed his fingers against Xander's thigh and frowned petulantly.
Xander shook his head. "No. Nuh and uh. None of that."
"Fine," Spike said shortly. He turned onto his back and for a few moments neither of them said anything.
"Well, not, you know, *never* again," Xander said suddenly.
"How's that?" Spike asked.
"I mean, if we don't know whether the hocus pocus is all pocus-ed out or not, we shouldn't do, uh . . . the main thing," Xander said. "But that shouldn't stop us from--"
"Right, yeah," Spike said quickly, and there was a platinum blur as he shimmied down Xander's body.
"Like that," Xander gasped as Spike's tongue rasped out over one of his nipples and then the other. "See? Just 'cause we can't . . . doesn't mean we can't . . . be . . . oh god . . . inventive. . ." He twisted towards, away from, and then back to the flickering wetness, biting his lip as the noises coming from Spike started sounding more like growls than groans.
Spike worked his way further down, marking a trail of kisses and licks with evident satisfaction. When he reached Xander's groin he paused for a second.
Xander had thrown his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes as he reached down to stroke and rub at Spike's back and shoulders, but now he looked at Spike in confusion.
Spike returned his gaze, heavy-lidded and intense, then moved up slightly, gently lowering his head to place a line of soft kisses along Xander's abdomen.
And that should have been freaky, but it wasn't. Xander thought that his heart was going to beat right out of his chest when Spike's fingers brushed against his stomach, and with a sigh he reached his hand down to touch Spike's cheek.
"What do you think . . . what's in there, Spike?" Xander asked in a whisper.
"Don't know," Spike said, pressing one last kiss against his belly. "But it's ours."
"Yeah, ours," Xander choked out as Spike shifted to pull down Xander's boxers and then to bury his nose against him, breathing in deeply. "Oh god," he said softly as Spike eased his lips in a tight ring over his cock.
* * *
"Angel's going to what now?" Xander asked blankly.
They'd been at Giles' apartment for a short while, but until then the conversation had been restricted mostly to a discussion of how Willow would remain in contact with the rest of them after she left the next day for her Wicca training.
"He's going to pay the extra rent so that you can move into your new apartment tomorrow," Buffy explained for the second time.
Xander stared. "Why?"
"Because he wants to help," Buffy said.
Beside her, Angel shifted uncomfortably.
"He doesn't look like he wants to help," Xander said warily.
"Feels guilty," Spike announced.
"Well, he should," Xander reasoned.
Angel muttered something unintelligible.
"Well, you don't have to worry about staying in the basement another day," Buffy said brightly. She covered Angel's hand resting on his knee with her own hand and squeezed hard, smiling in a friendly way when Angel winced. "We're going to move you tomorrow, and then you'll be all set up."
"That's . . . that's good," Xander said. His gaze flickered over to Spike, then back to Buffy.
"And we think Spike should stay with you," Buffy added after a beat.
"Oh," Xander said, bobbing his head in a nod. He looked briefly relieved, then frowned. "Well, uh . . . I object."
"What for?" Spike asked incredulously. "Just before we left, you--"
Xander raised his finger in an "ah-ah-ah!" gesture. "I'm making my standard objection," he said with gritted teeth.
"Pro forma, as it were," Spike said, suddenly relaxing. He slung his arm across the couch just behind Xander's back and shot Buffy a look.
Buffy returned the look with a shrug. But when Giles nodded at her impatiently, she blinked rapidly and spoke up again. "Pro . . . oh! Okay. Um. . . I insist?"
"Okay," Xander said, leaning over against Spike's side.
"Well, that's all settled," Spike said smugly as he combed his fingers through Xander's hair. Xander made a noise that was half-grumbly, half-content, and tilted his head for easier access.
"So that's pretty much it for tonight then," Willow said in relief. "Glad we could sort some of this stuff out before I have to leave. Then when we solidify the plans for the baby's arrival, we'll work out --"
"The baby's arrival?" Xander interrupted.
"Now's a good a time as any," Buffy murmured, and Willow took a deep breath.
"The way we figure, the gestation should take about three weeks," Willow said.
"Three weeks?" Xander asked incredulously. "How . . . what . . . three weeks? Three weeks and then *baby*? You won't even be here!"
"Oh, I'll come back before," Willow assured him. "We'll need to -- well, not we, because not so much with the mystical midwifery, personally -- you know, figure out how to induce the birth, considering Xander doesn't have any, uh . . ."
"Oh boy," Buffy said with raised eyebrows.
"Oh god," Xander said.
"Stay calm, pet," Spike told him.
"Yes, we should all remain calm," Giles said soothingly.
"How are you going to get the baby out?" Xander asked, making waving finger motions in the air as he said the last word.
"Out?" Giles asked, unconsciously mimicking the gesture.
"Through the time-honored magic of jazz hands?" Buffy asked, eyebrows raised.
"Don't be absurd," Giles said shortly. He dropped his hands to his lap and glared at Buffy.
"I don't know if you want to underestimate the power of jazz hands. Or the hand jive," Oz remarked.
Spike had been staring at Giles during this exchange, and when he spoke his voice was filled with scorn. "You don't know, do you, how the baby will come out?"
"I do so know," Giles responded irritably. When Xander and Spike looked at him pointedly, he continued in a lofty tone. "The solution to a complex and atypical circumstance such as this of necessity is arcane, closely-guarded --"
"Are you saying," Xander asked, his voice shaking, "that it's a *secret*?"
Giles cleared his throat. "Well. Yes."
"Come on, Giles," Buffy said. She leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "We won't tell anybody."
"He doesn't know," Spike said with certainty.
"Giles?" Xander asked.
Giles paused. "In fact, some of the more specific details are as yet undetermined."
"Uh oh," Buffy said.
"Okay, unnaturally pregnant but extremely hormonal guy here," Xander said loudly. "Stop with the 'arcane' and the 'undetermined'. I'll handle it better if you can just say straight up that you don't have a clue."
"While I can assure you that I do indeed have a great many clues as to the way we shall proceed, I've yet to arrive at anything . . . well, definitive."
"Oh god," Xander said. "I'm so going to die."
"We'll work it out," Buffy said firmly. "Giles is reading like crazy, Angel is asking around, Willow's going to have a camp full of Wiccans to talk to, and I'm fully prepared to beat up all sorts of species of demon to get the information. We've got some time -- it's not like it's happening tomorrow, right?"
"Okay," Xander said suddenly. "I'm not going to freak -- well, no more than I already am. And speaking of tomorrow, I've got to get back so I can get stuff ready for moving. And for work. We'll talk more about this later, and . . . oh fuck, *work*!" He stood and gestured at himself with agitation. "I can't keep going in if I'm going to look like, you know, how I'm going to look! You said three weeks, right?"
"You could say you were trying for a meatier, stockier vibe," Oz suggested.
"Let's not cover all the heavy stuff tonight, okay? Work gets to be tomorrow's topic," Buffy suggested.
"I kind of want to know that that's settled before I go," Willow said quietly, and Xander sat down again with a sigh. She moved to sit next to him on the couch, and though Spike's lips moved into a slight sneer, he made no verbal objection. Willow patted Xander's arm, and when he lifted it, she laid her head on his shoulder so he could wrap his arm around her.
"Can you take vacation time?" Oz asked.
"Don't have enough accumulated," Xander said. "Plus I don't really think I can all of a sudden cut off all sources of income. I mean, babies . . . or whatever, you know . . . expensive stuff."
"You shouldn't worry too much about the money right now," Buffy said, looking to Angel for confirmation.
"Fine," Angel said grudgingly. "I mean, three weeks -- how much can it all cost?"
"Well, and then there's the after part," Buffy said.
"After what?" Angel asked.
"After the baby is born." Buffy glanced at Xander with a clear *do you see what I have to deal with?* look on her face. "The baby will need all kinds of things, and I don't think Xander has that much money saved, and it's like we talked about earlier. With you having, uh--"
"Generous resources," Giles contributed.
"Resources, right," Buffy said. "Plus, besides it all happening because of you and your demonic pregnancy kit, the baby is kind of your family, and--"
"Whoa, whoa," Angel protested. "Wait a second here. *Family*?"
"Even if I don't have to think about the cash, there's still the little matter of making sure I don't get fired for needing unexplained personal *weeks*," Xander interrupted. "I won't get my union card for another two months."
"Oh! I know! We'll magic up a good old fashioned 'accident'." Willow crooked her first two fingers on each hand to air-quote the final word.
"You're not hurting him," Spike spat out, and he did snarl audibly this time.
"Not hurting Xander, of course not, never," Willow said quickly. "Just . . . make it *look* like he's hurt on the job. You know. For disability payments."
Xander stared at her, mouth agape. "You want me to commit insurance fraud?"
"Don't think of it as fraud," Willow said brightly. "Think of it--"
"As *fraud*?" Xander interrupted.
"Well, you do need to get out of work somehow," Buffy pointed out. "It's just going to be too weird for the guys at the site if you show there all knocked up."
"Because it's not enough that it be incredibly weird for me," Xander said bitterly. "Okay, point. But what am I supposed to tell my boss? How can I convince him I've had an accident, or that I'm sick or something?"
"Doctor Rosenburg?" Buffy said grandly, sweeping her hand over to gesture at Willow.
"Oohh, I can come up with a really great list of symptoms -- most of which you'll have anyway, so it won't be a lie or anything," Willow said cheerfully.
"Hey, now. That's super," Xander said weakly.
"And if Angel is fronting the apartment costs and baby expenses, then you don't need the disability money so much as medical leave," Buffy argued. "Can't be too hard to convince your boss that you have something that means you get time off, but also that he can't fire you while you're out."
"Right, okay," Xander said impatiently. "But what about the part where Willow leaves town tomorrow? She can't exactly play doctor from far away."
"Over the phone," Buffy said with a dismissive air. "She can call."
"I do think Xander is right to express concern," Giles said. "It might be best to make the contact from within Sunnydale. What if follow-up becomes necessary, or the so-called doctor's presence is required at some sort of hearing or legal meeting?"
Buffy pulled on one of her rings and nodded slowly. "Well, it should be someone really unflappable in that case. You know, to totally eliminate suspicion."
"Buff, you know I love you, but covert ops? Not exactly your strong suit," Xander said.
"Oh, I wasn't thinking of me," Buffy replied. She cocked her head towards Willow, and Willow suddenly nodded.
"We'll take care of everything," Willow said affectionately to Xander. "You just go home, and rest, and don't worry. Even though I'll be gone, I'll be helping out, and everyone here will do their part, and before you know it, this will all be over."
"Yeah," Xander said. He stood and allowed Willow to hug him hard. "Over except for the part where I have, you know, a baby." He sighed and kissed her on the top of her head. "Okay. Have fun. Learn lots of witchy things. And don't forget about your pregnant friends at home."
"I won't forget, silly," Willow said. "And you'll see, this will all be easy as pie. Oz is going to help take care of the whole work thing tomorrow, and then--"
"I am?" Oz said. His eyebrow quirked and he cleared his throat. "Uh. Okay. How am I going to do that again?"
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